


Are You Having an Identity Crisis?

by orphan_account



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Darcy Lewis-centric, F/M, Inhumans (Marvel), M/M, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-07 22:39:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17374547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Darcy Lewis' life was never normal, but she was sure of three things: she was an alpha, Phil Coulson was dead, and it was possible for her to stay off SHIELD's radar despite the power coursing through her body if she was careful.The universe was having a great laugh at her expense.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea for this story popped in my head and wouldn't go away, so I'm going to write it out. I have never written an A-B-O story before and my only knowledge of this universe is what I've read in other stories,so I'm warning you now that I'll be twisting the rules around to fit my needs and my story. Also, this story will barely be canon compliant. I'm giving you a lot of reasons NOT to read this story. I have no idea where it's going and things might be a bit more intense than anything I've written in the past, but I'm going with it. If you're along for the ride, thanks for joining me!

Darcy Lewis was an alpha. She didn’t need her designation to be verified; she was born an alpha and she’d die an alpha – and probably soon if boredom was a viable cause of death. She’d been stuck in the sterile exam room for what seemed like hours. She had no way of knowing because it lacked a clock and her phone was somewhere with the rest of her personal belongings.

She can’t believe a bunch of jack-booted thugs took her stuff. Again! How was this her life?

 “Ugh!” Darcy flopped on the exam table, the white paper covering the white padded surface crinkled as she shuffled her body into something resembling a comfortable position. She was cold. She hated being cold. The simple cloth garment she was wearing – Robe? Gown? Snuggie? – did not provide adequate warmth. Yes, it could be worse; she could be stuck in one of those paper gowns from her gynecologist office that failed to cover her assets, but they didn’t even give her socks! She did a good thing! She saw people in trouble and swooped in to save them! What happened to rewarding good deeds? She deserved a fucking pastry the size of the Jersey Turnpike, not a demand that she come with the men in black or else.

The “or else” wasn’t said, but implied. Darcy was good at reading between the lines.

Darcy folded her hands over her stomach. She tried a few deep breathing techniques to calm her racing heart. Energy was coursing through her body. It’d fade eventually, it always did, but this was the longest she’d gone without some sort of release to take the edge off. It wasn’t fun. If someone or something didn’t distract her soon, she’d resort to something stupid, like exercise! A few hundred jumping jacks, some pushups, maybe some burpees … nope, not gonna happen. Give her a crowded dance floor in a noisy club any day. Or sex. Fuck, she missed sex.

The door opened. Darcy sat up. “Took you long en – ” Darcy’s mouth dropped open as a second person followed Dr. Helen Cho into the room. “I thought you were dead.”

Agent Coulson almost-sort of-not really smiled. “I thought you were an intern.”

Darcy snorted. “Years ago, yeah. Had to stop following Jane around and finish school sometime.”

Coulson walked closer to the table. He pushed a few buttons on the arm rail and a chair, an honest to Thor _chair_ , flipped out of the side. Coulson took a seat, holding a hand out for the tablet Dr. Cho had in her hands. The small Asian woman passed it over without a word, then left the room.  

“I see SHIELD still has a chatty employee problem,” Darcy remarked.

“SHIELD no longer exists,” Coulson replied.

“Yet here we are.”

Coulson hummed, his attention focused on whatever information appeared on the tablet. Darcy knew better than to ask what it said. Her past interactions with the man were minimal, but he had made an impression. She knew he’d share what he wanted to share only when he was good and ready, and she’d make a point of sifting through files and systems she had no business hacking until she got the rest.  

“Was your death faked?” Darcy asked.

“No.”

“So bringing people back to life is a thing now?”

“In some circumstances.”

Darcy thought of Thor. Specifically, she thought of Loki. She wondered where he fell on the dead or alive scale these days. She’d ask Thor, but the cell phone plan she set him up with the last time he was on Earth didn’t have other realm coverage. Speaking of …

“Am I gonna get my phone back soon?”

The not-quite-a-smile flashed on Coulson’s face. “The years have not improved your taste.”

Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Did you hack my phone? Are you insulting my music, agent?”

“Not an agent, Miss Lewis, and yes.” Coulson turned the tablet off and set it on the floor. He brought a foot up to rest on his knee, folding his hands to rest on top in a completely casual manner that had Darcy’s back straightening in response. “How long have you been an Inhuman?”

Darcy sucked in her breath. She had to be calm. Otherwise she was looking at a lifetime in an exam room. “I thought this was a designation verification.”

“It is. You’re not an alpha.”

Screw calm. “Fuck you; yes, I am!”

Coulson’s face remained passive. “No, Miss Lewis, you aren’t.”

“I was born an alpha!”

“Your designation was determined at birth, yes, but it changed.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not an alpha. You likely never were, but displayed enough characteristics to pass as such, so – “

Darcy jumped off the table. “If I’m not an alpha, what the fuck am I?” She paced the room without waiting for an answer. Her mind was reeling. Holy fucking Thor, it was bad enough that a bottle of stupid fish oil vitamins awakened some dormant gene or whatever in her physiology that left her with powers she was still trying to figure out – that’s what you get for trying to be healthy – but now her whole designation was a farce?

Energy coursed through her veins. Darcy forced herself to take a deep breath. She didn’t know what would happen if she let her emotions get the best of her and she wasn’t eager to find out in a place where there were people who could take her out without a second thought. She had to be calm, but that didn’t mean she had to stop pacing. She couldn’t. She had to figure this out. OK, she wasn’t an alpha. Well no, not OK, because that’s what she thought she was for the first 26 years of her life, but whatever. Things changed. She could deal. She was probably a beta. Her parents had been betas. That’s why they were surprised, and excited, when the hospital pronounced Darcy an alpha. She’d be able to forge her own path; that’s what her mom always said. Sure, betas and omegas had the freedom to make their own choices, but it wasn’t the same. Biology had a way of getting in the way. As an alpha, Darcy had more self-control – or was supposed to anyway. She didn’t feel in control right now. She felt hot. And dizzy. Oh, there better be a button for a bucket hidden somewhere in that exam table because she was seriously going to be sick.

“You’re an omega, Miss Lewis.”

Darcy vomited on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

It turns out there were benefits to throwing up in a secret government exam room. First, Darcy was escorted to a new room that, at first glance, didn’t seem like a win, but this one had a small sofa in addition to a bed with actual sheets – no more crinkling paper for this girl! Even better, there was a bathroom. Coulson pointed to it with a not-too-subtle suggestion that Darcy wash up while he found her something clean to wear. She felt better after a quick shower. Government-issued soap and shampoo was exactly what one would expect – utilitarian and unscented – but it felt good to scrub away the grime and debris of her life-saving good deed.

iPod and iPhone theft aside, Darcy considered Coulson a good guy. Her positive opinion was strengthened when he knocked on the bathroom door to announce he was leaving a pile of clothes on the floor and that he’d be back in 30 minutes to continue their conversation. That gave Darcy enough time to braid her damp hair away from her face, don the gray sweatpants, sweatshirt and, thank Thor, thick socks, and search the room for a way out. She didn’t find one, of course – secret government exam rooms seriously lacked design flaws – but at least she tried. And she had actual clothes. Things were looking up.

Sort of. 

Darcy sat on the sofa. She had no idea how much time was left of Coulson’s 30-minute window, but it was probably enough for a small freak out. She was an omega. She wasn’t an alpha, she was an omega.

“Breathe, Darcy,” she murmured. “This isn’t the worst thing to happen to you.”

That didn’t help. It only reminded her that things could be worse and, knowing her life, chances were good things _would_ get worse.

Growing up, Darcy’s designation wasn’t a big deal. Most people’s weren’t. It was simply something people were assigned at birth. Some chose to live their life by their designation, while others opted for medications that blocked baser instincts. Because evolution diminished the need for alphas and omegas, most people in the modern world were betas. Modern society also decreased the necessity for packs, as most people preferred to livewith one, maybe two, partners. Designation loyalists decried the changes, using words like “tradition” and “birthright” to bolster their cause, but Darcy was raised to think of herself as a person first, alpha second. If she happened to scent someone that led to bonding, great, but it wasn’t the end of the world if she chose not to follow that path.

Darcy had never had sex as an alpha. She wasn’t a virgin. Nope, that ship sailed in the backseat of her date’s SUV after the junior prom. He was a beta and just as inexperienced as Darcy, but they made it work. It was kind of sweet actually, once they figured out what to do. Time went on, sex got better and Darcy’s suppressants kept her hormones in check. She heard the stories about alphas who met their omega, how they just knew he/she was the one the moment it happened, suppressants be damned. Darcy didn’t relish the idea of going from mostly-normal woman to sex-fueled alpha in a nanosecond, but she had to admit, there was something romantic about the idea, too.

Darcy had met a couple of omegas in her life, but none that she wanted to knot. There was nothing about their scent that brought out her alpha. If anything, she complimented their perfume or cologne, leaving the conversation with a beauty recommendation she’d later forget because she was terrible at writing things down. Omegas were rare. If the majority of the world’s population were betas, less than 10 percent were omegas with alphas barely outnumbering them – but that didn’t mean it didn’t happen. Couples were either happy or not despite their designations, but those who happened to find their match and go the traditional route were said to be in so in love, it made the Hallmark Movie Channel uncomfortable.

Part of Darcy had wondered if it would happen to her. She was aware of the physicality sex for a female alpha entailed, but because she never had to urge to bond any of her partners, she never experienced it. She figured it was a perfect match thing. If it happened, it happened. She never considered it was an incorrect designation thing.

“Shit.”

This was unknown territory. Darcy didn’t do well with unknown territory. She was already some kind of freak, thanks to the stupid fish oil pills. What had Coulson called her? Inhuman? And now this? What if SHIELD or whatever the secret government agency was calling itself today — because seriously, Coulson was still an agent, whether he admitted it or not; the man _oozed_ bureaucracy — wanted to keep her? Oh Thor, what if they wanted to examine her, like really examine her? What if the blood samples Dr. Cho collected earlier were just the beginning? 

The door opened.

_“Are you going to dissect me?!?”_

It wasn’t Coulson at the door. Instead, Darcy was staring at two men that, until today, were simply larger than life figures on television and a few questionable tumblr accounts. One was blond with muscles upon muscles and a clean-cut face that begged to be introduced to mom and dad. The other was dark-haired with a lean build that barely hinted to the power she knew from was there, thanks to Thor's stories. Steve Rogers. James "Bucky" Barnes. Captain America. The Winter Soldier. Her eyes darted from one man to the next. Their gazes were looked on her. Darcy felt dizzy. She felt sweaty. She had the urge to rip the clothes she was so happy to have moments ago from her body. What was happening? When did it get so hot? Why did the room suddenly smell like baked apples and cinnamon?

Oh no.

“Fuck me,” Darcy breathed.

The man Captain America called Bucky chuckled. "You read our minds." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this now because my Internet connection is spotty. I'll go back and fix errors when I can. Thanks for the comments on the first chapter. I hope to update weekly, but I'm living the international nonprofit life these days and reliable WiFi isn't always a priority.


	3. Chapter 3

Captain America jabbed his elbow in the Winter Soldier's side. “Bucky!” 

“What?”

“That’s not how you talk to a lady!”

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes. “She’s our omega, Steve. Do you really think the universe would pair us with a dame who couldn’t handle an innuendo?”

“First impressions are crucial!” 

“Says the man who practically wore a groove in the hall from pacing. You’ve been dying to get another look at her just like me!”

Darcy's head swiveled from one (devastatingly handsome) face to the next as they argued. It was like watching an old married couple. It was kind of adorable, or it would be had Darcy not been the person they were arguing about.

“Hey, super hero dudes!” Darcy snapped her fingers. Both men immediately stopped fighting, their attention focused completely on her. Darcy was hit with another burst of heat. She did not think this through! In her defense, she wasn't in the best place for critical thinking. There was so much information she was expected to digest in a short amount of time and it was too big. She couldn’t do it. She was tired and confused and wired and too fucking hot! She felt sweat gathering at her hairline and swiped the back of her hand across her forehead, blotting the moisture with the sleeve of her borrowed sweatshirt. She didn’t feel in control of her body, of her actions. She was going to overheat. Or something else. This was bad. This was very, very bad.

“Hey,” Captain America crossed the room and knelt at Darcy’s feet. “It’s OK.”

No, it wasn’t. None of this was OK. How could he look at her so sincerely like that and _lie_? He was Captain America! He was supposed to be truth, honor and justice!

“Breathe, doll face.” There was a dip in the sofa as the Winter Soldier settled beside her. He placed a hand, his metal hand, on the center of her back. Even through the fabric of her shirt, it was cool to the touch. Darcy immediately felt better. She took a deep breath. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Now let it out, nice and slow.” 

Darcy found herself responding to his words without thought. It helped. He had a nice voice; very soothing. It didn't mesh with his public persona, but at this moment, being centered by the Winter Soldier didn't even crack the Top 5 of weird shit that happened to her that day. She focused on his words and followed his instructions, keeping her gaze locked on Captain America, who continued to kneel at her feet, mirroring the instructions with his own breathing.

“Good girl,” the man at her side murmured.

Darcy felt a jolt of joy at his praise. What? Fuck that! She jumped up, startling both men as she rushed to the door and tugged it open.

“Darcy!”

She didn’t know which man said her name. She didn’t know _how_ they knew her name. She didn’t care. Both body and mind were screaming at her to go back, but she couldn't. She didn't know what going back meant. Escape meant freedom and freedom was her friend, so Darcy ignored the pain in her stomach as she ran to the metal door at the end of the hall. It wasn't locked, thank fuck. She pushed it open and found herself in a stairwell. What did she do? Where should she go? An alarm sounded. Fuck! OK, down. Go down. Down would lead to a main floor and a main floor would lead outside. Darcy scrambled down the stairs, taking several at a time when she heard the metal door open above her.

“Darcy!”

She stumbled at the worried tone of the cry. Part of her wanted to stop, to submit. What the fuck was that about?

“Darcy, please!” 

Darcy ran down three more flights before she saw a person running up the stairs. It was the Winter Soldier. How the hell did her get down there? Forget going down. She needed to get away from the stairs, away from the two men that were chasing her. She pulled open the door to the fourth floor and ran into a wall of muscle. 

"We have the Inhuman," a man in black tactical gear announced.

"Who the fuck are -- OUCH!" The needle pierced Darcy's skin. She slapped a hand over her neck and turned on the second man holding a syringe in his hand. She punched him, harder than she'd ever hit a human since becoming more than what she was. He flew backwards, crashing into the wall. Darcy heard the click of a gun.

"Freeze!"

She raised her hands as the door burst open at her back. A roaring sound she couldn't identify was the last thing she heard before everything went black.

* * *

Darcy’s head was pounding. She was thirsty and nauseous. What the hell did she drink last night?

She cautiously opened one eye and quickly shut it. Too bright. Wait, she had top-notch light-blocking curtains, so either she forgot in her drunken haze to close them, which is something Drunk Darcy would do, or she wasn’t in her apartment. That’s also something Drunk Darcy would do. She opened her eyes again. Still too bright – no, wait. All white. The room was all white.

“Welcome back, sweetheart.”

Darcy turned her head. The Winter Soldier was perched on the arm of a chair that held a slouched Captain America. “Is he OK?”

The man shook his head. “Yeah, just sleeping off his share of the stuff they gave you.”

Stuff? It took Darcy a second to remember. Running. Doorway. Syringe. Her hand flew to her neck. She felt a bandage. “How long was I out?”

“‘Bout a half hour.” He glanced down at the sleeping man with a fond grin. “Stevie got a larger dose. After he pummeled the guy who had his gun on you.”

“What about you?”

“Me? You took care of the other guy,” he smirked. “Very sexy, by the way. I would’ve swooned if you hadn’t done it first.”

Darcy glared. “I didn’t swoon. I was drugged.”

“Still got you in my arms.”

Darcy closed her eyes. The man was charming; too charming. She was not up for charming, not now. A gentle prodding at her lips had her opening her eyes again. The Winter Soldier was closer, a plastic bottle of water in his hands.

“Thirsty?”

She nodded, grateful as his arm slid around her back, gently lifting so she could sip from the bottle he held at her lips. She swallowed about a third before pulling away. “Thanks,” she whispered.

“Least I could do for our omega.”

There was that word again. “I’m not your omega.”

He settled on the edge of her bed. “Beg to differ, doll.”

“I don’t know you.” Darcy pushed herself up on her arms. This was a conversation she needed to have sitting up. The Winter Soldier handed her a remote that adjusted the bed for her. She shuffled around getting settled, the thickness in her head dissipating just a bit. “I don’t even know what to call you.”

“Bucky.”

“Really?”

The man – _Bucky_ – shrugged. “It’s my name; one of the few things they haven’t taken from me. My name. Stevie.” He took her hand. “You.”

She glanced down. His hand dwarfed hers and yet it fit. _They_ fit. The lingering layers of Darcy’s headache drifted away as Bucky cradled her hand, the pad of his thumb slowly stroking her skin. A jolt of desire shot up her spine. She pulled her hand away. “No. Nope. Not gonna happen.”

Bucky’s smile was gentle. “I get it, Darcy. You weren’t expecting us. We weren’t expecting you, either, but here you are.”

Darcy shook her head. “I don’t want to be an omega. I’m sure you’re very nice in a don’t fuck-with-me-cause-I-know-where-to-hide-the-body kind of way, but this – “ she waved an arm above her head, gesturing to the room at large – “is some kind of fluke. It’s not real. Hey, maybe those slimy bastards had something to do with it!” Darcy had completely forgotten the giant caterpillar-type things that descended on Philadelphia less than a mile from her apartment that morning. She’d just finished an amazing at-home manicure when she heard the screams and she was still kind of pissed that her mails were a mess. Being a good guy sucked.

Bucky shook his head.

“No, listen – "

“No, you listen, Darcy. I’m up on a roof, doing my best to keep Steve from gettin’ hurt, when I saw him stop fighting. That never happens, not when the battle is still going. Then he took off down the street. I followed him, thinking he saw something the rest of us didn’t and what did we find?”

Darcy wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

“We see a woman surrounded but those creatures, at least six circling her. You should’ve seen Steve; it was like he’d seen a fucking ghost or something. I yelled, hoping to get him out of whatever trance in was in, and then there was this light. I don’t know how you did it, but you took out those things, Darcy; nearly knocked Steve out in the process. Knocked him flat on his ass, anyway. By the time I got to him, you were gone. I was shouting his name, calling for backup, and he looked up at me with the dumbest look on his face, saying he found her.” Bucky shook his head, but he was smiling. “The city’s fallin’ apart and he’s got googly eyes.”

“I did _not_ have googly eyes.”

The couple on the bed turned their attention to the blond pushing himself up in the chair.

“You grabbed my arms and shouted at me to breathe with the most maniacal look I’d ever seen,” Bucky argued.

Captain America flushed, but didn’t dispute the claim.

“What happened?” Darcy whispered, caught up in the story to remember it wasn’t one she wanted to hear.

“I smelled coffee. Vanilla and cream. An unbelievable amount of sugar.” Bucky replied. He lifted Darcy’s hand, turning it slightly so he could nuzzle her wrist. “Are you really that sweet, doll? I bet you are.”

Darcy snatched her hand from Bucky’s hold. He grinned and got off the bed, leaning down to clasp Steve’s face between his hands. Darcy watched as the two men stared into each other’s eyes. After a few seconds, Bucky nodded once and pressed a kiss to the blonde’s forehead before resuming his perch on the arm of the chair.

“I smelled the same thing.” Captain America continued the story. “One second nothing and the next it was there, calling me. I had to follow it, so I did. And I found you.” He leaned forward and took Darcy’s hand, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Our omega.”

“Might want to lay off the omega talk, Stevie; she doesn’t like it.”

Captain America looked confused. “Why?”

Darcy shook her head, pulling her hand from Captain America’s gentle hold. “Nothing personal, Captain, but I – “

“Steve.”

“Huh?”

“My name is Steve,” Captain America said.

“Oh yeah, right,” Darcy nodded. “I’m Darcy.”

“We know,” Captain – Steve – replied.

“Well that’s not weird,” Darcy told him.

“We had a look at your file while you were with Dr. Cho and Coulson,” Bucky told her. “I never thought I’d find someone who liked trouble more than this guy here.”

“I don’t like trouble,” Darcy and Steve said at the same time. Steve smiled at her. Bucky shook his head.

“Look,” Darcy said, “that’s a sweet story and I wish I could tell you my little cameo was more of a starring role, but it’s not. I don’t … I don’t feel anything, guys. I’m sorry.”

“Now,” Steve correct. “You don’t feel anything now.”

“What?”

“The stuff they gave you to knock you out was also a suppressant,” Bucky supplied. “I’m not a fan of drugging someone without their permission, but you were burning up.”

Darcy remembered the heat. The pain in her stomach. The comforting scent that enveloped the two men. It wasn’t there now and part of her missed it. Stupid omega hormones.

“You have questions,” Steve said. “We’ll try to answer them.”

“But not here,” Bucky added with a glance around the room. “The walls have ears.”

“Well duh; it’s SHIELD. Or not-SHIELD. I don’t know.” Darcy took a breath. “I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“And that’s where I come in,” a man announced as he entered the room with a flourish. “I’ve been waiting in the hall for the perfect entrance and I have to say, I nailed it.” He walked forward, stopping at the foot of Darcy’s bed. “So, you’re the one saddled with Things 1 and 2, huh?” He gave her a quick once over and nodded in approval at the two men now standing by the side of her bed. “Nice pull.”

“Tony,” Steve warned at the same time Bucky gave a brief growl.

Tony Stark – Darcy might have been drugged, but she knew who Tony Stark was – held up his hands. “Kidding. Well, no, I’m not; jailbait’s hot, but I’m a taken man. And now it’s time for us to take our leave.” He pulled a cell phone from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. Darcy didn’t know what time it was, but she was pretty sure it was too early for anyone to be wearing a tailored three-piece suit, especially in some makeshift secret government hospital, but something told her Tony Stark wore suits the way she wore leggings and flannel. Stark tapped a few things on his phone, nodded once, and slipped it back in his pocket. “Barton says we have three minutes. Let’s do it in two.”

He pulled the covers off Darcy’s bed. Thank Thor she was still wearing the clothes Coulson gave her earlier. “Do what?”

Steve leaned over and lifted her in his arms. “Escape.”

“Escape? Wait, hey, put me down!”

“You were drugged,” Steve said as he followed Stark out the door, Bucky on his heels. “You probably still have some in your system.”

Darcy did feel a little light-headed, but she’d be damned if she admit that. “You were drugged, too,” she pointed out.

“I’m fine,” he replied as they approached an elevator.

“I’m fine, too,” she argued as Stark did something with the control panel. He ushered them inside, Bucky groaning as the doors slid closed. Darcy peeked over Steve’s shoulder to see the man rub his hands roughly over his face. “Are you OK?”

“Fate decided to pair me with a dame just as stubborn as Stevie, doll,” he said in a resigned tone though he didn’t look upset. “I’m fucking perfect.”


End file.
